Gemotions

The photograph, grainy and indistinct, was clutched in Anya’s trembling hand. It was a picture of Liam, supposedly a lawyer, grinning on a tropical beach. He claimed it was a company retreat. She felt the bile rising in her throat. She had always imagined he was struggling, like her, in the cut-throat industry.

She felt betrayed. She had given him the support of a loyal friend, for years, listening to his complaints about demanding cases.

The walls of her tiny apartment seemed to close in on her.

She had to get out. She grabbed her coat, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin.

She walked, not knowing where she was going, the photograph a burning weight in her pocket. The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if it was holding her down.